Anniversary
by DameNight
Summary: Victoria turns 100, and is visited by her master Yeah, right, like I would own any of this


"Anniversary"

            The crackling of electricity made the tiny hairs on her arms rise in awareness as the sound of reverberating thunder crashed ever closer.  She smiled and shook her head.  He never changes she thought, watching as the sky was split asunder with jagged forks of lightning.  The wind picked up, buffeting the woman from where she stood atop the railing of her perch, brushing pale hair across her eyes.

            She sniffed as the storm clouds came closer, smelling the tail-tail signs of rain and hail.  So, she reflected in amusement, something had obviously irritated him considering the display currently taking place before her.  The woman leaned back against the cold brick facing, crossing her leather clad arms across her chest.  One hand raised up to push her darkly tinted glasses back up her nose, hiding eyes that reflected something she'd much rather not bee seen.  The rain started seconds later.

            Though her perch was high enough not to be seen, it still it offered little in the way of protection, especially from the falling rain.  With a smirk, she retreated into the ancient clock tower to wait.  Pulling herself up on a rather precarious ledge, she lounged back, knowing that her visitor would show himself soon.  He never forgot.  Not in more than a seventy-eight years had he once failed to meet her here.  She turned her heart shaped face back to the night, a soft smile on her lips.

            One hundred years.  She couldn't believe how much time had passed.  Had it truly been so long ago that she'd accepted her fate?  It was a wonder, truly it was.  If someone would have told her that she'd see the passing of so many years, she'd have scoffed, knowing that a human rarely lived that long.  Especially in this age of dieses and war, in poverty and pain—it wasn't possible.   No, she'd have said they were crazy.  Life wasn't a fairy tale, and no one lived forever. 

            Yet here she was, disproving just that.  She'd seen more death, more birth, more changes than anyone had a right to see, and there would be still more in the ages to come.  If she so chose, that was.  Perhaps a few more, she thought.  There were still things to learn, things to see and experience, things that called to her even in the darkness of her life.  She revered such, and to just end it…that would be a waste.  A senseless one at that and one she was not ready for, though at times it was tempting.

            Loneliness was the bane of her existence, although she'd gotten used to that.  After all, she had been alone for most of her natural life anyway, what was a little more?  It was easier that way.  If she didn't let anyone in, then she wouldn't have to stand back and watch as they withered away to nothingness.  She'd tried that once, and only once.  The pain at the end had been enough to convince her to never try again, hence the fact that she had been alone for over more than fifty years now.

             Besides, Thomas, God rest his soul, hadn't truly been the one she'd wanted, though the poor man had tried to be.  He'd even asked her to convert him, all for the sake of seeing her happy.  It had been a bitter day when she'd left him, but never would she have allowed herself to fall into the trap of creating another such as she.  Never.  Her suffering was of her own choosing, and nothing would ever let her do that to another.  Not friendship, not happiness, and never for love.

            She hadn't loved Thomas, at least not in the way he had so wanted.  He'd been a good friend and ally in a time when both had been in short supply.  A shoulder to cry on, and a source of company when the ghosts of the past had threatened to become to much.  She'd actually known him before her transition.  They'd gone to school together; though she had recognized the sandy haired man as the same nerdy computer geek he'd been when they were young.  Over the weeks, he'd accepted her privacy, and she'd accepted his overtures.  

            The woman sighed again, this time exhaling rather shakily.  As much as she tried not to let her memories flood her mind, on this night it was a failed attempt at best.   Memories…that were all she had now, all this new life permitted.  Things changed, they never stayed the same, no matter how hard one tried, and memories were a part of that changing.  Still, she tried to never let those flashes of reflection get the best of her.  Usually, she won, but never on this particular night. 

            No, on this particular night, she only wanted to remember the times she'd been happy.  The times before her life had been torn to pieces.  Torn by the very person she was even now waiting on.  A slight feeling of sorrow crept up to squeeze her heart.  She'd stayed as long as she could.  Out of loyalty, respect and finally love had she'd stayed.  None had been enough, however.  It had been doomed from the start, only she'd been too young to realize it.  Too young and too innocent to see that what she felt, would never be more than a dream.  A sweet, naïve, and painful dream.

            Silent tears formed in the woman's eyes, leaving behind a trail of wetness on her unmarred skin.  She could almost smell the scent of it, that hateful day when her heart had died.  At the time all she could do was hurt, the pain of a broken love, even a childish one, had destroyed her far more than knowing the truth.  She'd learned to hate on that day, and it had taken many a year to let go of that anger.  Yes, she'd hated them then, but time had healed that wound, or at least scarred it over so as to not be so painful.  A heart couldn't help who it fell in love with, just as it couldn't help who it couldn't fall in love with. 

            Nor could a heart stop loving, thought she wished it would.  The woman wiped her face with the back of her hand, brushing away her tears.  She'd stopped lying to herself years ago, and she wouldn't start again.  As painful as what she felt was, she didn't let it rule her.  She'd accepted her unrequited emotions long ago, and was grateful that she could still call him friend if nothing else.  She was happy for him.  For the first time in his lonely existence, he was loved, and she was glad it had been with the one he'd wanted all along.  That was enough.  It would have to be.

            The strawberry blond jumped as a particularly loud clash of thunder roared over her head, causing her to swear inadvertently.  The sound only echoed the deep, mocking laughter that sang all around her.  From within the darkness a shadow emerged, bleeding into the form a man.  A tall, lean man, dressed somewhat oddly in outdated clothing appeared behind her.  It was the same as when she'd first saw him, unending red cloaked him like a second skin, even as his own personal aura silhouetted him in gloom.  A burst of light reflected off his tinted glasses, and exposed the toothy grin he wore. 

            For a brief moment, she let herself just take it all in, memorizing every detail of the man standing before her.  She couldn't help the silly grin she knew she wore, and didn't really feel like it anyway.  She couldn't help the way her heart sped up at the sight of him, or the way her breath caught in her throat.  All she could think, was that he was here.  He was finally here!  With a burst of happiness, Ceres leapt from her seat and rushed toward the outstretched arms of the very man she'd loved for so long.

             _Master…_

            "Hello, Police Girl, happy anniversary."

            Ceres laughed and hugged her master tightly, cherishing the few moments his arms were around her.  When she looked up into his smiling face, she could feel all the love she had for him rise to the surface, and she quickly pulled away, rocking back on her heels.  A faint blush stained her cheeks as she turned and walked a few steps away before turning back to her master.  She didn't see the slightly pained look that passed over his chiseled face, nor did he see the tear that was hastily brushed away from hers.  The two stood looking at each other, while a rather awkward silence grew between them.

            Victoria was the first to break the barrier.  She smiled and gestured toward the raging storm out side.  "You haven't changed at all, my master.  Still the show-off, aren't you.  I don't imagine your wife takes to kindly to that!"

            Alucard grinned and crossed his arms over his chest, cocking his head to one side.  "Well, police girl, after all these years, she's learned to put up with my habits.  Besides, the city needed a good soaking, don't you think?"

            Ceres only smiled, and once more turned away.  She walked over to the edge of the railing that lined the outside of the tower that house the famous clock called Ben.  She reached out and clasped the cold iron in one hand, trying to regain her scattered feelings.  The other hand clutched at the pain coursing threw her non beating heart.  In a soft voice she asked, "How is Sir Integra doing these day?"

            "Irritable," he replied, stepping near to her.  "You know Integra, she never changes."

            Victoria glanced up at the beaming elder vampire and shook her head.  "You're horrible, master.  After all, being pregnant isn't easy, you know.  Even for our kind, having children can be hard."

            "Perhaps," Alucard stared down at his fledgling, the happiness he felt evident in the way his now uncovered eyes sparkled at her.  "She said to give you her congratulations as well, and asked me to remind you to visit more often.  I think she likes having another female around.  Especially, now the child is nearly here."

            Ceres bowed her head, her eyes closing at the horrible hatred that was boiling up inside her.  She damped it down as fast as it surfaced, not wanting the man beside her to catch wind of what she was feeling.   She'd hidden her pain this long, a few minutes more wouldn't hurt, though it was hard keeping her voice from breaking.  "I'm happy for the both of you, master."

            There was a long silence before her master spoke again.  When he did, the soft understanding in that deeply timbered voice surprised her greatly.  "Thank you, Ceres."

            Victoria nearly ran then.  She didn't want his sympathy, didn't want to hear that in his voice.  It had been to long, to little, and to late for that now.  Didn't he know that it only made her angrier to be pitied? Didn't he know that it only made this worse?  She growled to herself.  Damn him, damn him for not letting her die that night!  It would have been so much better if he had!  Ceres cringed, walking around the narrow catwalk, turning away from him.  So far this was just wonderful.  She couldn't even look at him without feeling hurt, without being the coward she knew she was and just walking away.

            She was stopped rather abruptly as his hand shot out, cupping her chin and pulling her face gently up toward his.  Victoria watched, unable to keep her master from taking the dark glasses from her own eyes, thus exposing her.  She turned those betraying eyes downward, hoping beyond all hope that he would just leave well enough alone. 

            But that hope was futile, as Ceres felt the pull of their bonding.  Her master had no compulsions about forcing her if needs be, and that was just what he was doing now.  Forcing her to look at him, to show him what it was she was keeping locked so tightly inside.  Fortunately, Victoria had had years of practice with this.  He no longer had the control over her that he once had; she'd made sure of that.  When she finally gave in and turned her eyes to his questioning face, all he saw was emptiness.

            "And what of you, police girl?  Are you happy?"

            Though it killed another part of her, Ceres smiled.  Then…she lied.  "Of, course, my master, why wouldn't I be?  It not as if a person turns a hundred every day, you know."

            "True," he said, letting go of her.  This time, it was he that turned away.  The two undead looked out over the London night, each trying to get past the painfully silent moments that seemed to be punctuating this supposed happy occasion.  It was awkward for the both of them and wearing as well.

            "You're leaving, aren't you?"

            "Yes, yes I am."

            "Planning on returning?"

            "No."

            Alucard sighed, a sound that Ceres rarely heard from her master.  She looked over at the brooding man.  A sad smile graced his lips.  A smile that she'd never seen before, not in all the years she'd known him.  "I think I knew that," he said, looking over at her.

            Victoria shrugged, returning that sad little smile with one of her own.  "It's time, don't you think?  After all, I've been enough of a burden to you as it is.  I mean, come on, who ever heard of a century old fledgling, anyways, right?"

            "I never saw you as a burden, police girl."

            "Perhaps not, but I am one, none the less.  I know it, and you know it."  Ceres stepped closer to her master, this time she did not shield what was swimming in her crimson eyes.  She wanted him to understand, to approve of what she was about to ask for.

             "Do you remember master? Do you remember what you said to me all those years ago?  When you first ordered to me drink of your blood, and when I refused?"

            Ceres watched, amazed as the ebon haired man tuned his pale face away from her eager gaze.  It was the first admission of his own guilt that she'd ever seen, but instead of making her feel triumphant, it only made her feel all the more saddened.  "I remember.  I remember everything, Ceres Victoria."

            The woman grasped the material that formed the back of his famed red coat in trembling hands, before leaning her head against his shoulders and whispering, "You said it would be my choice.  My choice when I was to be free.  My choice when to ask for my release from you.  I…I'm asking for that release now, master.  I…I need to be, please don't ask me why."

            There was another long pause before, "Very well, police girl.  I…will release you."

            With that, Ceres felt Alucard turn to her.  Raising her eyes back to his, she watched in fascination as he turned the cuff of his sleeve back, exposing the white skin of his wrist.  His face was blank, emotionless, as he offered her the pulsing vein that flowed with his powerful blood.   As she gingerly took his large hand in her small ones, he spoke up once more.  "Ceres, I…"

            "Don't," she said, shaking her head against the regret that filled her ears.  "Don't.  Not now, not after all this time.  Just let me leave in peace.  Please…"

            "Very well," was all he said, as she sank sharp fangs into the delicate skin beneath her fingertips.  Ceres had expected pain, but nothing like what she was experiencing now.  For it wasn't only physical pain that assaulted her body, but the soul wrenching pain of loss, of centuries of endless grief, and overwhelming sadness.  She nearly choked as she swallowed the rich blood that flowed so easily down her throat.

             When that mystical, magical bond was finally broken, she herself cracked.  Tears cascaded down her face to drop down and stain the floor below.   Sobbing, she flung her arms around him, pulling her only love into her embrace, and kissing him with all the pent up emotion she'd held back for so long.  For just a moment, she felt him respond, and it was then she pulled away.  Standing on tip-toe, Ceres whispered in his ear, "I'll always love you," before tearing away from him, and rushing over the railing and into the night. 

            Alucard, master vampire, and soon father to be, watched as his last fledgling disappeared into the beautiful dusk.  A single, perfect, blood red tear fell down his narrow cheek.  "Goodbye…Ceres Victoria."

            A small girl of perhaps five winters old solemnly walked hand and hand beside her father.  The rain had started again, a cold misty rain that drenched everything.  The young girl cast her large scarlet eyes up at her father.  She'd never seen him so sad before, and it made her rather nervous now.  She bit her lip, and walked on under the protection of an umbrella perched high above.  In her other gloved hand, she held a rose.  A rose, her father said, for remembrance. 

            The strange pair stopped at a small, weed begotten little churchyard, the ground puddling around them.  She watched as father opened the iron gate, and walked to the last plot.  It was newly dug, but there was no marker as of yet.   She watched as he placed his own yellow rose on the muddy earth, then beckoned her to do the same.

            The child reached out her hand, and placed the flower on top of her fathers.  She watched as the rain, which seemed to be almost crying, gathered on the petals before running off onto the saturated ground of the grave.   She looked up at her beloved parent, her question apparent in her expressive eyes.  "Father, who was it that died?"

            The tall man looked down on the tiny being that had become the center of his and her mothers' entire world.  He loved her to distraction, always would, even if they were outcaste in the world they lived in.  He smiled softly down at her, seeing her look so much like his beloved wife.  His smile, however, was sad.  "This was your namesake, little Victoria.  She was a good friend to your mother and me.  A good, good friend.  Her name was Ceres.  Ceres Victoria"

            Young Victoria looked back at the fresh grave, her silvery head cocked to one side, just as her sire would do sometimes.   "Was she a midian, father.  Like us?"

            "Yes, Victoria, she was."

            The child looked back at her father, a tiny frown marring her delicate forehead.  "Then…she died in battle?"

            "No, little one," he replied, looking up at the grey, weeping heavens.  "She died of a broken heart." 

            Victoria blinked before saying, "Oh, how sad, father."

            He looked back down at his child.  "Yes," he agreed.  It was indeed very, very sad. 


End file.
